You Spin My Head
by Lyswenn
Summary: A few members of the Vortex Club spend the end of the party outside, playing spin the bottle, and it seems that the bottle has chosen Max and Victoria. And Victoria never thought she would enjoy it as much as she did. Maximum Victory (Chasefield). One-shot. Rated T for language and alcohol.


YOU SPIN MY HEAD

* * *

It was only a dare. A game. An act deprived of meaning – something not even worth thinking about.

And Victoria had not, in fact, thought about it.

Maybe it was because she couldn't think clearly to begin with, because her thoughts were stumbling messily thanks to the alcohol, but somehow her past-self had never even considered how _dangerous_ this could be.

She had simply stared at the bottle displayed in front of her, _pointing_ at her, before her eyes looked up to meet a very, very flustered Max Caulfield – even the darkness of the night could not hide the crimson shade her face had taken.

The other end of the bottle had chosen the fucking hipster as her next kissing buddy.

But she had not cared much at the time. She even had the nerve to think this could be a _great_ idea – a great idea, can you believe this? She had thought that, perhaps, smooching that clueless waif would somehow teach her a lesson. As a gift, a reward, an _honor_ to receive from the Queen Bee herself. A way to show her how it's done.

People had stared at the two of them, eyebrows nearly touching the root of their hair, and yet, this had not ring the "DANGER" alarm.

The only fucking thing in her mind was – " _Should I crawl to her or ask her to come over here?"_

She had finally opted for the latter, confidently raising her hand towards Max, gesturing with her index to come to her. She had even smirked as the hipster stumbled to her, sitting somewhat near, clearly afraid of breaking into her personal space.

Her hand had reached for her cheek, and she had heard a guy – Logan? Hayden? She wasn't sure – whistle at the gesture, but she had been too busy admiring those freckles, freckles she had never had the pleasure of admiring from so close. Despite the poor lighting, she could clearly see the blush spreading under them.

She had pressed her lips together, less to humidify them and more to show off her assurance. She remembers that the brunette had bitten her lips, a bit anxious, and that had been the awaited signal.

She had leaned in, still breathing boldness, at the same time using her hand to pull the girl closer.

And their lips had met.

Max had barely reacted at first, only releasing an anxious sigh that felt extremely hot on Victoria's face. It held the scent of liquor, too, but Victoria had chosen to focus on her task. She had closed her eyes, moved her lips, trying to get a better taste of Max's, noticing they were slightly chapped. But, after another breath, then they moved too, against her own. Max seemed uncertain, poor girl, it was probably her first kiss.

But Victoria couldn't just give her time to get used to the new sensation – no, she had decided to spice it up a bit, display her dominance, how experimented and good she was. So she opened her mouth, and allowed her tongue to slip past it to gently caress Max's lips, which spread apart a lot quicker than Victoria had expected.

She had toyed around for a bit, exploring, pushing, pulling, biting a bit too.

And now she realizes her mistake.

Because she has completely underestimated how much of a quick-learner Max is, and she can now feel the other girl gaining in assurance – and as she feels the girl's tongue pushing against hers, she realizes that she has lost her control. She is now the one being explored, teased, tested.

Her head feels dizzy, finding a hard time adjusting to the new sensation – but her body works faster than her mind, and a moan escapes her before she even gets the chance to wonder whether she likes it or not. She doesn't even have time to be embarrassed that she feels Max smirking against her lips, certainly proud of the reaction she has just brought up and – wait – is _that_ Max's hand she feels on her leg?

Of course, she would just pull back and scold the girl for her actions- she would, but she can't, because it feels just so good to her and her own arm just decides to wrap itself around Max's neck, her other hand forgetting the freckles to just lose themselves in those strands of brown hair. She feels Max's other arm slip around her waist, boldly bringing them closer together.

She needs to stop, she knows she needs to, especially as she grows painfully aware of the eyes fixated on them, the few "oh wow" and the "woah you go, Max!". Heck, she knows someone is probably recording what seems to be heading towards a make-out session.

But as hard as she tries, she can't seem to find the strength within her to pull away.

After all, who cares that word will get out? Who cares if everyone knows they've kissed? Fuck, does it really matter even if the whole entire fucking world knows that maybe she's a little bit gay? She would happily wear flannels for the rest of the year if that means she gets to taste Max a little deeper.

Max's breath against her face, Max's teeth on her bottom lip, their muffled moans intertwining, the strong scent of alcohol mixed with shampoo and perfume, the party's music singing in the far distance, the grass bending and cracking below them - It's all soft, and warm, and a little bit wet, but it all feels so good, so comforting, so satisfying, so _right_.

And addictive.

Her heart pounds hard against her chest, rings through her entire body, pushes her to go further, further, faster, right now – she _needs_ more.

She feels her own nails digging into Max's neck, begging her closer, closer, now, right now-

But Max slips a hand between the two of them, pushing gently, and after one last bite, Victoria understands that this is it, this is over, she has to open her eyes and go back to the painfully real world.

She ponders whether she should yell at her for going too far or yell at her for not taking her to her room – and the ideas mix in her mind until she spots Taylor at the corner of her eyes, one eyebrow up and a shit-eating grin on her face.

She glances at the rest of the group, and yes, indeed, Courtney is holding a phone in her hand, seemingly confused as to whether or not she should stop recording – but she doesn't.

Dana and Logan both clap fervently, Nathan only nodding with a satisfied smile, Hayden laughing, and Juliet- oh, it seems that Juliet has also recorded the whole thing. Yup, they're going to be in the school's newspaper. Probably the very next day. Well, fuck.

Still, she glances at Max with an arrogant smirk.

"You're welcome, hipster."

… Well, yes, technically, _she_ should be the one thanking Max for that wonderful time she's had- in fact, she has to fight the urge to _beg_ for another go.

But she has a reputation to uphold, so instead, she lifts her chin and points it at the bottle.

"So, who's next?"

The bottle spins, and as Logan and Zach stare at each other in shock, she can hear everyone yelling and laughing in apprehension.

But she honestly can't care less.

She disconnects from the world around her again, and with a shiver, her mind wanders into fantasies she hopes will become reality within the next hour.

* * *

 **A/N:** I apparently forgot to upload this on this website, I'm sorry! ;^;

Big question: will I ever be able to write a story with Victoria not being drunk? Dun dun duuun.  
And Max should be nominated cocklock 2k15.

(If anyone is wondering, this one-shot is NOT the continuation of Just Prey. I'm currently working on it - I'm sorry it's taking longer than planned.)


End file.
